


Terror in the Night

by Saenda



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-03-21 14:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3695012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saenda/pseuds/Saenda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to be a simple trip to Val Royeaux. Asan Lavellan insisted that he needed nothing more than one of Cullen's troop to go, leaving his companions to Skyhold. He should have returned safely in a matter of days, but with a snowstorm hitting the keep, the matter was made impossible, prolonging the trip.</p><p>Or so Dorian would have wished. When the bells of Skyhold ring loudly through the middle of the storm, it leaves a bad taste in his mouth and a sense of fear he could not shake off since the Inquisitor's departure.</p><p>It does not help that everything shatters upon his return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I have to admit that I'm uncertain about my writing in this one. It's been a while I've written anything and I feel rusty. I'll try updating once in a while despite how busy I am in hope that it's to your taste. Dorian is also harder to write, since he's kind of the opposite of me, so any constructive criticism is welcomed and highly encouraged :)
> 
> Thank you for reading!

A shiver coursed through his spine. Dorian wondered why it had been a good idea to listen to the inquisitor and come out here instead of staying inside Skyhold’s walls. At least there, it was somewhat warm and cosy – better than being outside with only snow and trees for miles away.

 

But then again, watching the elf run stealthily through the trees, bow at hand, a smile painting his lips... It was surprisingly enough for the mage to admit that it was indeed a good idea. It was the first time in a long while that Asan was enjoying himself, relaxing and hunting – something that was comfortable and felt like home, apparently. After all, he used to be one of his clan’s hunters.

 

Dorian did hesitate that very morning when the redhead came to him, asking the mage to accompany him on his hunting trip. Of course the Tevinter hesitated… he, in no way, knew how to hunt and the snow that would obviously greet them did not thrill him in the least.

 

The lure of a picnic, however, sounded nice. The promise of spending time alone, without any disruption, was even more tempting. What did it, however, were the puppy eyes the elf sent him, pleading and adorable and… how in the Void was Dorian supposed to resist those? He hated whenever Asan used them – not really – unable to even tear his own gaze away whenever his lover would pull out the trick.

 

And the little shit knew it as well. He would take those out whenever he needed something out of Dorian. The latter started to wonder how he ever thought he could take advantage of the inquisitor when, in reality, it was quite the opposite.

 

It was with a dramatic sigh, as well as demands that their time indeed be _interesting, seducing_ together that he relented. In truth, though he would never admit it, it was the prospect of his lover finally having some real time off, with prospects of forgetting all about their mission, that won the mage over. Asan deserved a break, and a real one.

 

Here they were, a few miles away from Skyhold, entering a forest that was not entirely too deep. The view on the way had been majestic, of course, but Dorian had been too busy complaining about the cold the entire trip to even comment on it – not that he had not taken the time to observe it for a few moments. He just would not be himself if he did not complain. Besides, he knew it amused Asan who did not answer to his complaints except with either smirks or low chuckles – the sound that sent chills down to Dorian’s very soul.

 

Their mounts now attached near the entrance of the forest, Dorian was in charge of the basket containing their food while he watched his lover first stretch in delight, breathing in the scent of the nature around, then take out his bow, caressing its wooden designs with a dreamy smile.

 

“Careful, I’m going to be jealous of that bow if you keep that expression of yours on. I believe I’m the only one worthy of it. Unless you’re suddenly announcing to me you named it Dorian like Varric named his Bianca, which would be somewhat really disturbing but understandable.”

 

Asan rolled his eyes and chuckled, the way he always did with his lover’s jokes, then adjusted the quiver on his back.

 

“Don’t worry, you’re still safe. I just thought it’s been a while I’ve come hunting. Tracking animals with bow in hand, readying arrows and waiting patiently for just the right moment... it’s the best feeling in the world,” the Dalish explained, eyes twinkling.

 

“And here I thought I was the best feeling in the world,” his companion retorted, an eyebrow raised.

 

Asan grinned, coming closer and tenderly laying his lips upon Dorian’s.

 

“No, I would say you come second,” he jested.

 

Dorian scoffed, insulted, though he knew it was merely teasing – or so he hoped.

 

“Wh– Well, we’ll see about that when I decide not to come to bed with you for the next few days.”

 

“I’m joking, Dorian. You know what I’m saying isn’t the truth,” the redhead reassured, caressing the other’s cheek, his green gaze holding all the love in the world inside them.

 

The mage pouted, stubbornly looking away for a minute, but the caressing got to him and he sighed, smiling.

 

“I sure hope so.”

 

Asan smiled at him one last time before he turned around, readying himself for the hunt.

 

“Yes, of course. You actually come third.”

 

Dorian’s eyes widened as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish, now even more insulted as he watched his elf walk away, snickering. In his mind, he was already plotting revenge.

 

He decided that each and every time Asan would find a target, he would make sure it would flee at the last minute only to frustrate the other man. And so he did. Three times. The Dalish was not happy, sending him hard looks, obviously understanding the game they were playing, so saying nothing else as to not fuel the mage.

 

His fourth target was a rabbit. He was crouching, bow ready as he trailed it with his sharp eyes. He drew his arrow, ready to shoot it at the unsuspecting animal munching on some berries.

 

“I am not skinning that,” Dorian announced, loud enough for the rabbit to hear.

 

Startled, the animal darted off quickly, missing the arrow that landed right where it had been a few seconds ago.

 

With a deathly glare, Asan turned to the other, snarling. That was the last straw.

 

“It’s _you_ I’m going to skin if you keep scaring it off!” he threatened through clenched teeth as he made his way towards his arrow.

 

Dorian merely shrugged, stepping up as well behind the Dalish, knowing full well he would never follow through with his threat.

 

“You would never. I’m too pretty for that. The world is just not ready to be without me. Besides, I know you love my wonderful skin, judging by the way you snuggle to me. It’s soft and warm and all the more pleasant when it’s on me.”

 

Asan grunted, rolling his eyes, trying to ignore the mage behind him. It was hard, however, when the latter grabbed him by the waist, halting him. He felt the other’s breath on the back of his neck, then the mustache tickling his ear. A kiss was placed on his jaw, teasing, tempting.

 

“ _Amatus_.”

 

A shiver ran down his spine with delight, so hard to ignore. The whisper in his ear sent heat all over and Asan had to bite his bottom lip, closing his eyes.

 

“Pay attention to me,” Dorian whined.

 

The magic was broken off and, as irritated as Asan had been, it vanished instantly, replaced with laughter. He turned around in his lover’s arms and slid his own around the taller man’s neck, sighing in defeat while he still laughed.

 

“You attention seeker,” he accused teasingly, shaking his head.

 

“That’s me,” Dorian replied with a shrug, the corner of his lips curled up. “Besides, I needed revenge for that awful comment you made earlier. You’ll now have to make up for it. Maybe, and I suggest that very strongly, by keeping those promises you made earlier this morning and that I intend for you to keep. I was promised alone time and I expect for it to be given to me. Otherwise, I believe I will have to take it by force.”

 

“Oh?” Asan inquired, raising an eyebrow. “And how do you plan to do that?”

 

“Well, I already have you in my arms, so that is a start. This is what I plan to do next.”

 

Dorian leaned down, capturing Asan’s lips in a slow and tender kiss. The redhead slid his hands on the mage’s cheeks, bringing his face closer if possible. Their lips moved in unison, Dorian sometimes nipping at the other’s. Their tongues intertwined and the kiss heated up until they both were in need of air and they pulled apart just far away enough to still feel the other’s breath as they panted.

 

“Hmm… that’s more like it,” Dorian hummed with a grin, to which Asan chuckled.

 

“Show off.”

 

They kissed again before the redhead pulled away, returning to fetch his arrow and walking further away, leaving Dorian annoyed.

 

“Do we really have to follow it? I thought this was an excuse when you asked me this morning!”

 

Asan rolled his eyes once more, but stopped to grab Dorian’s hand with a smile.

 

“Come now, instead of complaining.”

 

The mage followed reluctantly, but soon noticed that the elf was not in any way having a stance for hunting. Maybe they were not searching for the escaped rabbit after all, but going somewhere else. He understood as such when he realised they were actually going back for the mounts, untying the horse and the hart, before heading back to another direction.

 

His jaw dropped once they arrived to what seemed like a small clearing. The view left him breathless. The sun was radiating, the snow glowing brightly under the clear blue sky. There was a river, its stream slow and calm where a few animals were drinking further away, not bothered by the newcomers. It felt somewhat warmer in this place, under the sun, and there were patches of grass near the water and up in the hill.

 

Asan kissed his cheek, closing his mouth for him.

 

“You’ll swallow a bug if you keep it that way,” he teased, boasting at the reaction he got out of the other man.

 

To say that the Tevinter, who despised the cold and winter, was impressed by the landscape was a feat in itself.

 

“This is where I wanted to take you. I thought it was a nice place to picnic. I stumbled on this place the last time I went hunting near Skyhold. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

 

Dorian looked down to his lover, realising how proud the little shit was. Well, they couldn’t have that, now, could they?

 

“Well, it’s certainly _different_ from any landscape I’ve seen before,” he retorted with a smirk, to which Asan huffed, slapping him on the shoulder.

 

Laughing, the mage squeezed his lover’s hand tighter.

 

“It’s lovely, Amatus.”

 

The smile given to him sent butterflies in his stomach. Dorian had fallen hard for this man and, sometimes, he wondered if it was all right. But then he remembered all the good times they got together, all the shared joys and passions, and he managed to reassure himself for the most part.

 

“I had also planned for rabbit stew as an accompanying warm dish to our picnic, but well, you’re well aware of how that played out, hmm?”

 

The unimpressed look thrown his way had the mage chuckle somewhat nervously before he shrugged.

 

“Guess we’ll have to make do with what we have.”

 

They tied the mounts to a tree, then Asan laid down the blanket he brought on the grass, Dorian taking care of the food inside the basket. The cooks back at Skyhold had outdone themselves and everything looked delicious. The wine was also a very nice addition.

 

They ate in companionable silence, enjoying the other’s warmth while they sat side by side, snuggling. Conversation was struck once the food was engulfed and they spent most of the afternoon this way, lazying on the blanket, speaking of this and that, kissing and making-out.

 

Once the sun was lower in the sky, they half-heartedly agreed that it was time to go back. They kissed one last time before heading to the mounts. The trip back was done in silence, both reminiscing on the precious memories they made earlier that day.

 

The keep was now close enough to be seen. Asan approached his hart next to his lover’s horse and kissed him on the cheek.

 

“Thank you for today, _Ma’Vhenan_. It meant a lot to me.”

 

Dorian smiled, eyes holding all the affection he could muster.

 

“Anything for you, Amatus.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Come now, Dorian. It’s going to take a week at most. You won’t even notice I’m gone, or even find the time to miss me.”

 

The mage huffed in response, wrinkling his nose.

 

“That, I doubt, Amatus. In case you haven’t noticed yet, you barely go unnoticed in these walls whenever you are in Skyhold, if at all,” he countered, still grumbling.

 

The elf chuckled, eyes twinkling as he held Dorian closer, both of his hands on the other’s hips. He enjoyed the warmth shared between them, despite the small argument they were having.

 

“By the Creators, are you suggesting that I am flashier than you are?”

 

The Tevinter’s expression increased in haughtiness, but the other knew it was more for show than anything. He could see the way the mage’s lips wanted to quirk up.

 

“Far from me the idea! You know very well that, out of the two of us, I am the most fabulous and handsome. I am merely saying that it is quite hard not to notice whether you are here or not. The whole bloody castle and its nobles act entirely different.”

 

Asan rolled his eyes, smirking, although the statement did make him curious. He would have to ask another time, however, as for now, he needed to reassure the other man that this trip of his was not the end of the world.

 

He leaned in to gently grab the mage’s lips, kissing them softly. With a muffled sigh, Dorian answered in the same fashion, but was the first to pull back. He did, however, lay a hand on the elf’s cheek, a frown on his features indicating worry.

 

“I still cannot fathom as to why you would not bring any of us to your trip. You always do. That I am no part of it, though it irks me, can be logical in some way. That you do not at least bring Vivienne or Cassandra, who can understand the court or not be judged by it, that leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

 

The Inquisitor chuckled.

 

“Then let me sweeten it for you,” he whispered, kissing the other man another time.

 

When Dorian pulled away once more, however, quicker this time, Lavellan sighed heavily. All traces of teasing gone, he held Dorian just a little closer, reassuringly

 

“Look, it’s all right, Dorian. It’s not like I’m going entirely alone. I’ll have one of Cullen’s patrols with me. Besides, I can protect myself. It’s just for a meeting with the Empress and I deemed it wise not to bring anyone because it’s not going to last over an evening. I did not want to tear anyone from a well deserved rest and I thought everyone had better things to do than wait in Val Royeaux for me to be done with the meeting.”

 

Dorian frowned.

 

“You do realise we’re talking about the Orlesian court? You know, murder being a game and everything?”

 

“I know. Thus the escort. It’s going to be enough. I want everyone to rest.”

 

“And what about you? It’s not like you ever get to rest that much.”

 

Asan’s eyes saddened, clashing with the smile kept on his lips.

 

“Comes with the job, you know that.”

 

Dorian grumbled. It was not enough for him.

 

“I wouldn’t mind, Amatus. There are things to do in the city. Please, at least if not me, bring one of our companions.”

 

The elf shook his head, smile apologetic.

 

“Sorry, I’m already leaving right after lunch and my things are packed. It’s kind of late to ask any of you to get ready.”

 

The mage was ready with another retort, but Asan silenced him with a kiss.

 

“It’s okay, _Ma’Vhenan_. I’ll be just fine.”

 

Without another word, the elf left silently, leaving the Tevinter sour. The latter hoped very much that his lover was telling the truth.

 

* * *

 

Dorian was tempted not to see the inquisitor off, still bitter with the fact that he would not bring anyone of their inner circle. Not that he did not trust Cullen’s men, but even they were just a small escort and, well... The mage would just feel safer with someone he knew keeping an eye on their herald.

 

Still, that seemed a bit cruel and, frankly speaking, he did not truly want to part ways with such a heavy heart. And so he swallowed his pride and made his way to the gates where Asan already stood next to his hart, taking care of the last minute preparations before their depart.

 

When the elf spotted him, his face changed for a mixture of relief and happiness. It seemed that their argument in the morning had affected him as much as it had Dorian, obviously.

 

“I’m glad you came,” he said softly once the mage was near him.

 

“What, and deny everyone my incredibly good looks? What better way to go than to keep looking back at the dashing young man. Maybe that would make you stay, who knows!”

 

Asan laughed, his green eyes twinkling in adoration.

 

“I’ll be thinking of you every step past Skyhold.”

 

Dorian started, eyes wide. It was incredible how the elf always managed to take him aback with words he would never have dreamed to hear even once in his life. But there he was, face tender, smile loving. It made the mage’s heart beat wildly in his chest, made his chest tighten painfully.

 

“There you go. Breaking my heart.”

 

Those words might be manipulative, but then again, he was left rather speechless – another one of the Inquisitor’s talents – and thought that, for once, the truth might be the best reply.

 

It did not seem to faze the elf, however.

 

“Know how much I’d rather stay here, if I could. I’ll come back alive, I promise.”

 

Dorian knew those words were meant to reassure, but somehow, they left a bad taste in his mouth. There was this bad feeling, lurking. It was too late, however, to make the other change his mind, and so the mage willed himself to think it was merely paranoia.

 

“You sound like you’re going to war, or something. You’re going to a meeting to Val Royeaux, nothing more.”

 

Asan chuckled and his smile was still bright and tender.

 

“I just want to make sure you understand that it’s not because of you I did not ask you to come. You have nothing to worry about.”

 

The elf leaned in so that his next words would only be heard by the mage.

 

“I’ll want to see your face first, once this is over. You mean the world to me.”

 

Dorian hoped so much that he was not blushing. Still, he felt the fire in his cheeks and he doubted he succeeded in concealing anything. The words the elf could blurt out sometimes! It was off putting, in a good way.

 

He was not given time to say anything back. Asan sweetly kissed him before mounting his hart, giving the order to go after sending one last smile to his lover.


	2. Chapter 2

A curse resonated through the cold tower as Dorian sneezed loudly – ugh, he could not believe he was sneezing. _Loudly_! It was so indignant! – and grumbled as he realised he had lost his page in the sudden movement.

 

“Venhedis! Stupid Fereldens and their blighted cold temperatures and their idea of a good keep in an even colder area!”

 

A few days ago, Skyhold had been struck by an insufferable and intolerable cold – apparently, a sunny sky in the south during winter times meant icyness! What even... – then a blizzard followed earlier in the day, keeping everyone inside and making it impossible to travel. It was at least less cold, but the Tevinter could not tell the difference. It was freezing, his nose was disgustingly runny and, to make matters worse, he was completely alone to get through all of this.

 

Not that he would ever admit he missed the Inquisitor to anyone. He would grumble, he would complain loudly, but stating that he would like to have his lover by his side was simply out of the question.

 

Not that it fooled anyone. Because even if the weather made him moody, it was obvious that Asan’s presence alone would have tempered it. And Dorian did feel lonely, even if it had merely been a few days. He had grown so accustomed to the other’s light and warmth, to their conversations through the day and their snuggling in bed through the night that, now, the days seemed longer. Even if he had lots to read and study.

 

The bed was also too big at night.

 

Besides, with this bad weather going on, with anyone barely able to see a few meters ahead when they walked outside, the mage was bound to worry. Asan was scheduled to go back the previous morning, thus would probably be in the midst of this awful storm outside. Dorian wished so hard that the elf was delayed in any kind of way and then heard about the cold and blizzard coming. That possibility, unfortunately, seemed highly unlikely. He at least hoped that the small group found refuge somewhere safe and were waiting for the wind and snow to die down.

 

As much as he was lonely and he missed the other, Dorian wanted to have his lover safe most of all. Better to have him somewhere warm and secure than for him to brave the snow and not arrive that much sooner in the end.

 

With a deep, dramatic sigh, the Tevinter readjusted the cover on his shoulders. He kept on him at all times since the cold made its way inside the castle, despite the warm fires that usually were enough to make the building liveable. It was seeping through the stones’ cracks, blowing softly and annoyingly in the way that every step you took, you would feel it against a part of your skin. Just enough to drive you crazy. Even the cover sometimes was not enough, although with the coming of the storm and the blasting cold dying down, it was less of a hassle.

 

Dorian searched for his lost page, still irritated. He hoped against hope that this time, his reading would pass time faster and make him think enough to forget about the wind blowing dangerously outside, just as a dragon would screech or a wolf would howl. He would rather think even less about the window behind him that was shaking so much, it looked like it would blast open at any moment.

 

But even as he managed to find the page, he realised after a few minutes that the only good it did was for him to read the same sentence over and over again. He could not even process what the words were meant to form and explain. His brain circled between either cursing the cold for penetrating his bones and making him shiver like the Void or worrying over Asan. Possible scenarios of the latter dying under a heavy pile of snow or losing most of his limbs to frostbites ran in his mind.

 

Shaking his head, the mage marked his page – he was not about to lose it twice – then slammed the book shut with a disgruntled sigh. It was irksome, but he would not get any studying done, that was for certain. Besides, the tower was blastedly icy because it was big and there were not enough people inside. Dorian hated to admit it, but maybe he needed to go somewhere with more people, even if he did not felt like socializing. Surely it would be warmer and it would take his mind off those horrible thoughts – and so would that Ferelden beer he hoped no one had noticed he liked.

 

He overheard Varric earlier asking the others for a game of Wicked Grace. At that time, Dorian made sure to avoid him, but thinking it over, it might be a good thing to join them. It had been a while his companions had been blessed with his amazing presence.

 

Time to do them the honour.

 

The mage gathered his things and climbed down the stairs, heading for the entrance. He noticed on the way that even Solas was not in the tower anymore. He _knew_ it really was that cold! Dorian ran a hand through his dark hair, shivering. He started to wonder if it really was a good idea to go to the tavern after all, when he opened the entrance gates and was met with a blast of cold wind that smacked his face with snow.

 

He immediately slammed the doors shut as all will to cross the courtyard vanished. What manner of crazy thoughts overcame him when he believed it was a good idea to even set foot outside for company? There was snow – pardon, white shit! – everywhere. It was impossible to even see the bottom of the stairs. To top it all, it was fucking cold, not something he enjoyed.

 

Could they have not built a tunnel that connected the two buildings, for Maker’s sake?

 

Already changing his mind and finding his library not so bad anymore, Dorian unfortunately spotted Varric coming out of the ambassador’s office, the latter in tow. Well, there was someone who would likely try to take him outside. He could not even pretend that he did not see them since their gazes met and, besides, Varric would just call him out.

 

“Ah, Sparkler! I was just about to go get you. Let’s go play Wicked Grace. We could use another player.”

 

Dorian smirked, although it was all for show. He just wanted to coop himself up again, maybe go to the Inquisitor’s quarters instead and slip inside the warm feathery covers. It would feel lonely again, and his thoughts would conjure more horrifying scenarios, but it would at least beat the cold. Maybe it would help make time pass in a flash so that when he would open his eyes, it would be morning, the storm would be gone and Asan would be next to him, warming him.

 

“Depends. Is our dear Commander playing?” he asked, remembering the last time everyone played.

 

Poor Cullen ended up completely naked. Was a sight rather interesting to ogle.

 

Varric snorted and Josephine giggled, obviously recalling the very same memory, but the dwarf shook his head.

 

“Didn’t manage to convince him just yet, sadly. Maybe another time. So, are you in?”

 

The Tevinter shrugged as he moved away from the gates, hoping he could slip past them without question.

 

“I’m a bit busy. Another time, perhaps.”

 

Varric did not seem to buy it, however. He raised a skeptical eyebrow, a knowing smirk on his lips.

 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little snow?” he jeered, approaching the mage, placing a hand on the latter’s arm to stop him. He even had the audacity to turn him around and lead him to the exit.

 

Dorian sputtered, insulted.

 

“I am certainly not, as you say, afraid. You barbarians are just too used to the damn thing. Who in their right mind would want to cross that?”

 

And that was certainly not a _little_ snow. Was the dwarf blind or something? It was obvious there was a pile of the thing and the minute they would step outside, they would be swallowed entirely.

 

Chuckling, Varric opened the doors, the wind once more smacking the snow at them. The blasted dwarf did not even seem bothered by it!

 

“Come on, it’s not so bad. We’re not travelling through the Hinterlands, we’re just crossing a small part of the yard to get to the tavern. Just follow me and we’ll be there in no time.”

 

“Yes, Master Pavus, do join us. I enjoy our games together,” Josephine chimed in with her trademark diplomatic smile.

 

Dorian cursed them in Tevene, grumbling, watching the storm making his heart sink. There was this bad feeling lurking, the very same one he sensed the day he sent his lover off. In the end, he was won over, believing that it was best to get the distraction. It was beyond him, but he would rather face this horrifying blizzard than making up scenarios of a hurt – or worse, dead – inquisitor that would make his life a living void.

 

“Fine, fine, I shall join you!” he finally conceded, not without half-heartedness.

 

The dwarf clapped him on the back, flashing him a smile that made the mage roll his eyes before exiting the castle. With one last uncertain look, Dorian took a deep breath and plunged outside, an arm covering half of his face to somewhat protect himself from the wind that smacked snowflakes in his face and eyes. It felt as though thousands of tiny darts were launched at him.

 

It was an adventure in itself just by climbing down the stairs as he could barely make out the next step ahead. He did trip a few times, but never enough to stumble down, thankfully. Although considering all the snow around them, he would obviously not have been hurt.

 

Fortunately, Varric was ahead and – Andraste’s tits, how in the void was the damn dwarf even walking so casually through that blizzard? Was this some kind of southern sorcery?! – led the way, which made things a little easier.

 

They walked for what seemed like ages, all snow around them and nothing more. His feet were sinking deeply and he could feel the flakes entering his boots, his pants and even his shirt, making him curse loudly. There was snow above his knees every time he took a step the minute they arrived at the bottom of the stairs. Why did he listen instead of keeping to his library or his lover’s quarters? His entire being was becoming wet and disgusting.

 

“How long until we’re there?” Dorian yelled above the wind.

 

Varric looked back. “We’re halfway!” he called back, to which Dorian groaned before shivering violently.

 

They would have been already there in any other normal circumstances. Fifteen minutes ago, surely.

 

Before he could throw a witty retort, there was a faint sound that caught his ear. It grew louder and louder until the mage managed to recognize it as the bells announcing someone arriving at the gate. All three came to a stop, looking at each other, wondering as to who, in their right mind, could have travelled through such weather in order to come to Skyhold.

 

“Could it be...?” Josephine wondered loudly, a frown as she too tried to protect herself from the wind and snow.

 

“I dearly hope not,” Dorian countered, knowing exactly who she spoke of.

 

Somehow, however, he had a bad feeling it was exactly that person. That sinking sensation he felt earlier as well as a few days ago was suddenly ringing bells as loud as the ones from the entrance in his head.

 

“We should go check it out,” Varric added. “At this rate, they might need our help.”

 

The other two agreed and Dorian stared towards the gates to the bridge, hoping against hope that his Amatus had not braved the snow and, if so, that he was in one piece.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long, yet that it's so short. I kind of forgot about it because of work, ha ha... Summer's coming now, so I should be able to work on this a little more. I'll try not to leave you hanging too long. 
> 
> As always, feedback is appreciated. Thank you for leaving comments and kudos!
> 
> See you next chapter :)


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